The Bonds of Blood
by livngnmymind
Summary: A bizarre murder has team Gibbs on the edge. The victim's sister could be the one to push them over or the life line that pulls them up. WARNINGS FOR LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE AND IMPLIED ADULT SITUATIONS Rating T for now may change later. ORIG CHARAC WITH TEAM
1. prologue

**The Bonds of Blood**

**Prologue**

Exhaustion was a fathomless abyss, devoid of any comfort or hope. How she longed to simply descend into the darkness, like a stone sinking into the water. Agony, white-hot in its intensity, burned away the blackness that clawed at the edges of her mind. Whatever strength she'd had had long since vanished, leeched away by the drugs her captors had injected into her body and the all-encompassing cold. An iciness so painful, that combined with the drugs, her body betrayed her. She was helpless, incapable of moving. They had nevertheless chained her to the floor, should by chance the drugs wear off prematurely, so she could not escape.

Strangely, the chemicals left her in possession of her faculties. She could see, hear, talk, and smell. Her body was unresponsive. No movement, just a pervading numbness. She listened, counting the water drops falling to the floor. The sound echoed throughout the room, hallway, building? Where in the name of all that is holy was she?

It didn't matter. If she wasn't able to summon help before they returned then nothing would matter any longer.

Focus! She ordered her mind. If this was her only chance to summon help she had to have absolute focus. She hadn't attempted anything like this in nearly a decade, not since childhood. She knew it would/could work, if only …

Shoving aside the panic and the rolling waves of nausea, she regulated her breathing, calmed her mind and focused her consciousness. One person.

One person for one second that was all she needed.

Gradually, through painstaking concentration, a face coalesced in her mind. Similar to her own, but different. A striking face, where hers was softer and more delicate. Her sister. Just as she approached the point she was certain she could reach out, just one more second was all she needed…

A heavy door crashed against the wall to her left, the sound reverberating madly down the corridor. The noise and the knowledge that this was the end shattered her concentration like fine crystal. Shards of pain stabbed her brain.

Desperation forced her scream through the gloom, "_**Lane! Help Me!**_"


	2. CHAPTER 1

**NCIS Team fiction**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of its characters. The original characters of this story and the plot are however mine and mine alone. This disclaimer in effect for the rest of the chapters.**

**Warnings for language, violence, implied adult situations.**

**Ratings: T for now, will probably change in later chapters.**

**Enjoy. Will update as can please be patient. R&R**

**Chapter One**

Location: Lake Anne State Park, Virginia. On the Rapidan River an hour or so downstream from and aging hydroelectric dam.

The morning silence of the forest was split by the roar of an engine and the squealing of brakes. A grey Dodge Charger slewed sideways along the last curve of dirt track (for it hardly qualified as a road), before stopping abruptly several yards from two sheriff department SUVs. The SUV's flanked the rusty hurricane fencing, as well as what appeared to be some kind of utility truck.

Four doors opened, four passengers exited the car. The driver and the front passenger stepped calmly out, while the two riding in the back stumbled drunkenly, though both were stone sober.

"Boss, you really gotta let me drive back." stated Agent Anthony DiNozzo. "Ziva thinks the wildlife crossing signs are for the animals to read!"

"I resent that Tony!" Ziva David hissed, "I missed that deer by at least two inches."

"Only because it was doing a Comet impersonation." snapped Tony.

"What does astronomy have to do with my driving?" Ziva demanded.

"Comet is one of Santa's reindeer, Ziva. You know "Up on the rooftop, reindeer paws?" said Agent Tim McGee, having finally steadied his nerves.

"Except I don't remember the part about "To the Top of the Car"!" Tony snapped at Ziva.

Their boss ignored the continual bickering and pulled his jacket tighter around his body. At these higher elevations it was still cold enough in the morning to make his joints ache. After a life such as the one Senior Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs had, it was to be expected. He strode purposefully toward the Sheriff Department vehicles, as much to get things started, as to get the kinks worked out of his legs. Startlingly blue eyes, under silver hair made him and imposing figure. Combine that with the authoritative air he projected was enough to impress most women and intimidate most men. His gaze searched for the officer in charge of the scene, while his brain recorded all the details of the surrounding area and the vehicles in it.

"DiNozzo, David," he barked, "get the field kits! McGee, call Ducky, find out his E.T.A."

Gibbs' stride never slowed, he didn't have to look back to know his team jumped to obey their orders. He was _the boss_. And he was cranky. The drive from N.C.I.S headquarters had taken three hours, he'd run out of coffee after two. As Gibbs approached the Sheriff SUVs, an older man, a barrel chested sergeant came to meet him. The Sgt paused to give instructions to a towering younger deputy, who kept a watchful eye on the utility truck and its two occupants.

The sgt stepped up to Gibbs and extended his hand "Special Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs nodded as a shook the slightly older and shorter man's hand. Reading the nameplate underneath the sgt's badge, "Sgt. Beck. What have you got that necessitates an early morning trip from D.C into the mountains?"

"Didn't ask for or expect you this early. Won't say I'm not grateful for it. Just told your dispatch what was found and a name. Guess that was enough." Sgt. Beck replied.

He sighed and scratched his neck in a manner that told Gibbs it was an old habit. "A couple engineers from Hydra-Dyn were sent up to inspect some old power exchange bunkers. Company is renovating the old dam, wanted to see what else needed replacing. They found the body of a young female in this bunker."

Sgt. Beck turned and jerked his head to indicate Gibbs should come along. As they walked at a more sedate pace toward the underground concrete bunker, Beck continued, "They ran out after finding her body and called us. I took a look, and then called your agency."

Gibbs narrowed his gaze at the man, trying to get a feel for Sgt Beck's veracity. Beck's face was prematurely lined and showed marked reminders of his profession. Twin diagonal scars ran across his tanned forehead, a remembrance of the dangers of police work.

The sgt. seemed truly disturbed at the discovery, so Agent Gibbs asked a single question, "Why us?"

Sgt Beck swallowed hard as he stared at the entrance to the bunker, "Because who ever did this wasn't concerned about concealing her identity. She still had her dog tags."

"You touched the body?" asked Gibbs in dismay, stopping several feet from the doorway.

"Didn't." Beck shook his head. He cleared his throat and continued, "The tags were placed over her eyes. Name's Petty Officer Cameran Wilken. "

Pausing at the doorway, Sgt Beck's sympathetic gaze fell full on Gibb's face. Gibbs felt the weight behind it as Beck gritted his teeth and inhaled slowly before speaking, "I was D.C Homicide for a dozen years or more. Investigated my share of gsw's, stabbings, strangulations, gang and professional hits, domestic homicide, everything that comes with the territory. I thought I had seen the worst there was to see."

Beck's next words were so quiet Gibbs barely heard it, "I was wrong."

Gibbs hesitated, uncharacteristic for him, but when a veteran D.C murder cop tells you this is the worst he's ever been witness to, it jars the equilibrium. Hearing his team approach, Gibbs turned to yell at them to zip it with the bickering about driving and who was carrying the most equipment.

Before he could, Beck cleared his throat, stating tersely, "You should tell your team to bring up some high powered lights. It's darker than my ex-wife's soul in that place."

With an understanding smile, after all Gibbs had 3 exes himself, he hollered "DiNozzo go back and get the spotlights. McGee! Where the Hell is Ducky?"

Taken off guard McGee and DiNozzo started talking at the same time.

"Boss, I can't…" McGee

"But, Boss we don't…" DiNozzo.

Ignoring them momentarily, Gibbs continued," Ziva interview the witnesses."

Gibbs jerked his chin in the direction of the utility truck before turning back to his sputtering agents.

* * *

><p>**** <span>With Ziva<span>***

Ziva set her share of the equipment down next to the rusted chain link fence gate and strode off to take statements from the two witnesses, who still looked fairly pale after their discovery. Keen dark eyes also took notice of the tall, broad shouldered, young deputy guarding the witnesses, in Ziva's opinion he looked quite appealing in the brown cowboy hat. Deliberately putting a little swing in her step as she approached, Ziva pushed her jacket slightly to the side. Making certain both her badge and her gun were visible as she neared the vehicle, she watched the deputy shift his stance.

Hardly noticeable, were the casual movements; the rolling forward onto the balls of his feet and his thumb shifting over the release catch of his holster. Both appeared to her, done more out of habit than any real sense of danger, still she approved of his caution. Ziva saw him smile politely and nod once in her direction. She was close enough now to appreciate that his unusual grey eyes made a merely appealing face become quite handsome.

As she got close enough to speak, he tensed. Drawing himself up slightly, rather like a large bear before it pins something to the ground. Ziva found herself entertaining the notion of being pinned to the ground underneath him, struggling out of clothes and panting for breath. Storing the fantasy away for later, she kept her face pleasantly neutral as she extended her hand, saying, "Special Agent Ziva David, NCIS. I have been instructed to interview the men that discovered the body."

The deputy tilted his hat brim in acknowledgement and shook Ziva's hand. His large rough palm enveloped hers completely, a strong grip, but not crushing. A man who was well aware of his strength was a good thing in Ziva's opinion.

His voice was rumbling bass over gravel, "Deputy Creed Richardson. Didn't think you'd driven all this way to have coffee. Although, I've some in a thermos if you'd like."

Ziva smiled, pleased with both his manners and the mildly sarcastic comment. Although, Ziva was taken aback with just how tall Deputy Richardson was (6'4" or 6'5" easily), he struck her as both hospitable and genuine. Both qualities of which Ziva approved. She held the handshake just a second or two longer than was strictly necessary, enjoying the way his eyebrow raised and his smile became more engaging.

Ziva replied, "The coffee would be very welcome. Thank you."

Releasing her hand slowly Deputy Richardson stated, "I'll go get the coffee so you can speak to the witnesses privately."

After watching appreciatively as Deputy Richardson's long legs carried him toward his vehicle, she turned toward the waiting men, her voice business like as she started," From the beginning now, Names both of you."

* * *

><p>****<span>With Gibbs<span>****

"What do you mean you can't get Ducky on the phone? Try again McGee!"

He felt his temper rising from aggravated to ticked off. He knew with absolute certainty that at this second he'd shoot someone for a cup of coffee. It also meant that his agents were about to experience the wrath of Gibbs.

Tim McGee withered under his boss's stare, stammering as he tried to explain," Uhh.. It's not that simple boss… Well it is simple… except that there's no way to fix it… And I tried to…"

"Spit it out McGee!" growled Gibbs.

"We are at the farthest range of the cell towers and with the natural iron deposits in the mountains I can't," rambling and unable to stop, McGee was almost grateful when Tony interrupted.

"What McMotormouth is trying to say is there's no cell service out here Boss. Also no spotlights. Brown's team didn't replace them after searching the swamp last week." said Tony, who then waited for the wrath to explode on them.

They were saved from the explosion by an unlikely source, took pity on them saying," We've got a couple hi power lights in the SUVs you can borrow. As for the other, I'll radio down to the station and have a patrol unit look out for your agency van. Show'em the way up here."

Gibbs gritted his teeth and nodded to the man. "We appreciate it Sgt."

Tony and McGee breathed easier, grateful for Sgt Beck's mercy. DiNozzo hurried after the Sgt to retrieve the lights, not the least bit remorseful about abandoning Tim to face Gibbs alone.

His natural curiosity had Tony inquiring of the Sgt. "How bad is it?"

As Sgt Beck stopped at the back of his S.U.V, DiNozzo observed the Sgt's hand gripping the rear door latch until his knuckles turned white. When Sgt Beck raised his eyes to look at DiNozzo, the answer shone in the haunted expression of his gaze.

"That bad." said Tony quietly, as the sgt nodded.

Sgt. Beck gave DiNozzo terse directions to the interior room where the Petty Officer's body lay. Tony hefted the pair of high power spotlights and hustled back to an increasingly impatient Gibbs. DiNozzo handed Gibbs one of the lights and reached for the remaining satchel, two beamed of light cut a swath through the darkness as the three made their way into the depths of the bunker.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Gibbs chose his steps with care. Panning his light slowly across the concrete floor, he searched for tracks or any other evidence. So far he'd seen nothing. They had descended not quite forty yards down the long steadily downward sloped tunnel, the only sounds reaching their ears their own footsteps and a faint dripping of water in the distance. Gibbs was leading with McGee in the middle and Tony bringing up the rear.

It was an uncanny feeling, McGee decided, being swallowed by the earth. They proceeded further into the darkness without speaking. So preoccupied was McGee with the foreboding silence and oppressive gloom, kept at bay only by twin flashlight beams, that he jumped sideways when Tony spoke.

"Sgt Beck said to take a left at the intersection, go down a spiral staircase and it's the only room on the right. Said it used to be some sort of electrical exchange room." Tony's voice echoed in the void.

Because needling the probie was as second nature to Tony as breathing, he started on McGee," Hey McGeek, does this remind you of a dungeon in one of those video games you play? I admit it's creepy enough to believe we might come across an ogre or troll, but more likely bats or maybe even a bear."

Tony swung his flashlight across the ground, then overhead to illuminate the ceiling. He turned left at the corner following in McGee's wake. "Hey Boss, do they have bears in this part of Virginia?"

Gibbs paused at the corner, holding the light above his head trying to judge the distance to the stairwell. Peering intently into the syrupy blackness, he could just make out a hand rail at the far end of the corridor.

Gibbs set off again stating, "If there are bears DiNozzo, you'll be the first to know. Bears hate loud noise."

The sound of DiNozzo's teeth snapping shut made McGee chuckle quietly at Tony's embarrassment. Tim was grateful for the brief levity, it took his mind off the fact he could feel the weight of the hillside pressing down upon him. Gritting his teeth, Tim wished fervently that he could be interviewing witnesses with Ziva. He could not allow his claustrophobia to get the upper hand on him. Tony would never let him live it down. But disappointing Gibbs was unthinkable. Instead, he focused on Gibb's ball cap and counted the number of steps he was taking. So intent was Tim on keeping it together that he nearly walked into Gibbs, who had stopped upon reaching the stairwell.

Gibbs felt McGee stumble as he tried belatedly to stop. Gibbs turned to look at McGee. Seeing his youngest agents face pale and sheened with sweat, Gibbs' expression grew tight with concern. Gibbs was unaware that McGee suffered from claustrophobia of this magnitude. Trying to think of something to distract McGee, Gibbs ordered them to leave the bags at the tops of the stairwell and bring only the camera, evidence markers and sketch pad.

Once the gear was sorted Gibbs set off again, though slower this time, so no one would accidentally fall down the slippery spiral staircase. (Say that five times fast) The old fashioned stairs were narrow and treacherously steep. The last thing his team needed was for one of them to fall and break something.

Three agents descended into the abyss; prepared, they thought, for whatever might await them. They had no way of knowing how wrong they were, of how terribly this would haunt them and the extent to which it would change all their lives.

* * *

><p>***<em>With Ziva***<em>

Leaning against the side of Deputy Richardson's vehicle, reading her interview notes, Ziva awaited the arrival of Dr Mallard. Deputy Richardson had just received word that the NCIS medical examiner's van was now on the road leading to the murder site.

Ziva's reasons for waiting were twofold: the first, to speed Ducky and Palmer along once they finally arrived (Ducky had a tendency to dawdle if distracted); secondly, it allowed her an excuse to drink truly excellent coffee in the very pleasant and visually pleasing company of Deputy Creed Richardson.

The interview notes in her hand were an after thought, merely cover for what was really going on in her mind. Ziva was currently engaged in calculating the odds of seeing Creed off the clock and without the uniform covering his most visually appealing body. Although, Ziva admitted, he did fill it out quite nicely. Giving herself a mental shake, Ziva decided she needed at date, she was sounding too much like Tony DiNozzo for her own peace of mind.

"Agent David," Creed's bass rumble interrupted her train of thought, "your medical examiner is following one of our patrol vehicles up. They should be here shortly."

"Thank you Deputy." Ziva replied, "Your cooperation and hospitality is a pleasant change from the manner in which we are usually treated."

"I can't imagine people could be that rude or inhospitable to you." Creed stated, standing near the vehicle at Ziva's side.

Then he grinned, showing white, even teeth before adding impishly, "You being such a meek and delicate personality 'n all."

Ziva had taken a sip of coffee as he spoke and nearly choked at Creed's last comment. She coughed harshly trying to clear her throat, her dark brown eyes watering.

Creed was pleased that he'd been able to throw off Ziva's air of imperviousness, but he hadn't intended her to choke to death on her coffee. Concerned by Ziva's difficulty breathing, he grasped the lapel of her jacket in one hand, easily pulling her forward and slapped her back sharply several times with his free hand. Relieved when she cleared her throat and inhaled deeply, he steeled himself for a physical assault. For his intuition told him this was a woman that tackled problems and aggravations head on and he was certain he'd just become an aggravation.

Straightening and clearing her throat, Ziva was acutely aware of Creed's proximity. Her brain quickly registered how he smelled of forest and leather, the heat radiating from his broad chest and how his hand was lightly resting on her back. Ziva tilted her head upward to look into Creed's apologetic face. She noted that he dropped his hand from her back quickly, but for some reason still held the lapel of her jacket.

Secretly thrilled with his concern and simultaneously ticked off that he'd managed to cause her to react to a simple comment in such a manner, Ziva snapped, "I will show you delicate and meek!"

Ziva's fist impacted his chest, eliciting a rumbling laugh. Creed simply absorbed the punch, not caring that it actually did hurt some. Catching and holding her hand, his grey eyes grew serious.

"Strong hands, for a strong woman. I like that about you."

Ziva asked in soft tones, "Why Mr. Richardson are you making a pass at me?"

His answer was equally quiet, "Yes."

Ziva smiled at Creed, pleased with his blunt, yet truthful answer. Deciding to be just as forthright, and let the dominoes fall where they may, Ziva replied, "If you were to ask me to accompany you to dinner, I would be inclined to say yes."

Creed smiled pleasantly responding, "I wasn't thinking of asking you to dinner."

Her face expressed disappointment for a brief moment, but before she could say anything Creed continued, "I was thinking along the lines of picnic in the town park, dancing, carnival rides, and funnel cakes, everything that goes with a county fair. Weekend after next, if you're free and still inclined to say yes?"

A rare genuine smile lit Ziva's face as she nodded saying, "That sounds very lovely, I accept."

Creed had just enough time to smile back when they heard the sound of approaching vehicles. He released Ziva and stepped reluctantly toward the dirt path. Ziva sighed. Ducky really did have the worst timing.

* * *

><p>*** Inside the Bunker***<p>

It took everything Tony had not to vomit and contaminate the crime scene. McGee had barely made it into the hallway before emptying his stomach in the far corner. Tim crouched on the floor, head in his hands, pale and sweating profusely.

Tony risked a glance back inside the room. Gibbs stood next to the body, as motionless as if he'd been carved from stone. Had Tony been someone else, he might think the blank expression on Gibbs' face with the glacial look of the eyes, meant he was unaffected by the sight in front of him. Tony knew better. Tony knew this one would haunt the boss. Hell! Tony was certain he, himself, would revisit this place in his nightmares for a long time to come.

After waiting several minutes to be sure his voice wouldn't fail Tony spoke, "Boss…"

He couldn't say more, couldn't force the words out. Watching as Gibbs slowly lifted his gaze and met Tony's eyes, Tony inhaled sharply. He, almost, pitied the person(s) having to endure that look in an interrogation room. Tony hadn't seen it often, but who could forget it. There would be no stopping, no mercy, for whoever had done this.

Gibb's voice was low, yet steady, "Tony, have McGee go up top and get Ziva. Tell him to bring the young Deputy too. We'll need the extra muscle to get her out of here."

Tony stayed rooted where he stood, unsure if he could move. He watched as Gibbs reached for the camera to begin taking photos. For a split second, so brief Tony thought he imagined it, Gibbs looked- heartbroken.

* * *

><p>***With Tony and Tim***<p>

DiNozzo stepped into the hallway, letting out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Taking in a lungful of air to try and clear his head, Tony become conscious that something wasn't right. He just couldn't put his finger on what the something was. DiNozzo stepped over to where McGee still crouched on the damp floor; he placed his hand on Tim's shoulder. For moral support, Tony reasoned. Tim looked like he could use it.

DiNozzo saw how McGee's clothes were drenched in sweat and the pallid hue of the Probie's skin made him appear corpselike. Tony shook his head hard, trying to dislodge the thought. McGee's claustrophobia combined with the scene in the small confined room had simply been too much.

"McGee." Tony repeated until Tim focused, "Boss wants you to go get Ziva and that other Deputy. Also, see if Ducky and Palmer are here yet. If so, ask them to bring the portable halogens and don't bother with the gurney, just bring a body bag."

Tony witnessed McGee's emotional turmoil, as his expressions shifted. McGee was embarrassed, he wanted to stay and do the job. But he really wanted to get out of this place, into the open, where he could breathe.

"Go on Tim." Tony held the flashlight out for McGee to take. McGee stood shoulders slumped, appearing defeated and relieved at the same time.

Contrary to popular belief, Tony actually liked McGee. So Tony was not unsympathetic to McGee's dilemma, he allowed Tim to leave without making any of his normal McGeek comments, unknowingly adding to McGee's discomfort. Turning to face the nightmare room, Tony steadied his nerves and stepped back inside.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Once he was outside, with the cool air flowing around him and the sun on his face, McGee's embarrassment doubled. He couldn't stay and do the job. The oppressive closeness of the tunnel and the terrible images of the crime scene… Sweet, merciful Jesus. Never, in all his time at NCIS, never had he imagined something like this.

McGee gulped fresh air into his lungs as if he were in danger of drowning. Closing his eyes, Tim turned his face into the sun, trying desperately to stop his body from passed before Tim felt steady enough to face Ziva. Tim could hear Ducky and Palmer close by arguing over how they had missed the left turn leading them up here. Ziva was busily chastising them for being late. Under that was a low rumbling, which Tim pinpointed as coming from the tall Deputy, standing next to Ziva, chuckling.

Tim took another breath and walked slowly toward the NCIS truck. He'd covered half the distance when the Deputy's gaze tracked over him; Tim saw the recognition flicker in the Deputy's Deputy reached and tapped Ziva lightly on her arm, then pointed in McGee's direction. McGee found himself surprised that she hadn't grabbed the man's hand and broken his fingers. Ziva opened her mouth to speak, then seeming to think better of it, waited for McGee to approach.

Dr Mallard, now alerted to McGee's presence, spoke first, "Ah, Timothy. My apologies for our tardiness. Even with the GPS unit Abby installed in the truck we were unable to find the correct turn for this particular overlook. Although, I must say the view…"

Tim tried to head off the unfolding tale, "Ducky."

"Is quite spectacular," Ducky continued unabated. "It reminds me of the time…"

"Ducky!" Ziva, not quite shouting, managed to get his attention, "You are very late and Gibbs is very impatient."

"Of course my dear. You are quite right, duty calls." said Ducky. Unperturbed by the interruption, Ducky turned to his assistant, Jimmy Palmer, instructing the young man to retrieve the medical bags and the gurney from the back of the truck.

"Ducky," McGee interjected, "Gibbs said to forget the gurney. Just bring the body bag, there's a narrow spiral staircase, the gurney won't fit."

McGee forged ahead before Ducky could respond, "We'll need the portable lights too. Ziva, Gibbs wants you and…" McGee gestured to the towering Deputy, "I'm sorry I didn't catch your name."

"Deputy Richardson." the man supplied with a nod.

"Tim McGee." he said returning the nod.

"Gibbs wants you and Deputy Richardson to come down as well. He figures we'll need some extra help getting her body out of there."

"Creed, would your Sgt allow you to assist?" Ziva asked him.

"Shouldn't be a problem. I'll let him know, back in a second." Creed replied.

Before he could turn Ziva called, "Oh, Creed…"

Deputy Richardson arched an eyebrow questioningly.

"Would you happen to have anymore coffee in your thermos? Gibbs can be a real Teddy Bear when he doesn't have coffee." Ziva stated.

"I… uh… Think you mean Grizzly Bear, Ziva." stammered Palmer, who withered under her glare.

Creed smiled, "I have some left, yes. Let me tell Beck and I'll be right with you."

So saying he strode quickly, but unhurriedly toward his Sgt.

McGee's eyebrow lifted in shock, "Creed?"

"Yes." was all Ziva said before turning to help Ducky unload the necessary equipment.

Deputy Richardson returned, thermos in his jacket and began loading equipment on his broad shoulders. Once Ducky was satisfied they had everything, the group proceeded back toward the tunnel. McGee sandwiched himself behind Ziva and in front of Dr Mallard, so that he had no choice but to keep moving forward. He knew he couldn't go back down again alone, so this seemed like the best solution.

Ducky began talking almost immediately, striking up a nearly one sided conversation with Deputy Richardson about the etymology of the man's unusual first name. Tim allowed himself to be soothed by the sound of Ducky's. Thanks to the sound Tim could block out the confining space and encroaching darkness. Where the first trip had lasted an eternity, the trip back down seemed to last little more than a couple minutes. When they reached the room, McGee locked his jaws and stoically began helping Palmer set up the lights.

* * *

><p>**In the bunker while McGee's outside**<p>

Tony took a breath upon entering the room for the second time. Instantly his brain clicked to what was missing. A smell, one intimately associated with murder scenes.

"No blood." Tony whispered. He didn't realize he'd spoke aloud until Gibbs stopped taking photos and stared at him.

"What did you say DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"There's no smell of blood. I knew something was missing when we came in, I just couldn't figure out what." Tony stated.

"When I came back in, it clicked. I knew what was wrong. And with that…" Tony gestured to the petty officer's body, at a loss for words to describe the wound, "You'd expect blood to be everywhere."

Gibbs nodded in agreement, "You're right. Start the sketch. Ziva can bag and tag when she gets here."

Gibbs and DiNozzo accomplished as much as they could lacking the proper lighting. Neither man spoke. Neither was certain he could without his voice shaking.

* * *

><p>They had nearly come to a stopping point when Ziva arrived leading the rest of the team and the very strapping deputy, who appeared to be loaded like a pack mule with all the equipment. Still, Tony was impressed when he saw the man gently set the gear neatly to the side, without so much as an inkling of strain or discomfort.<p>

"Ziva begin the bag and tag," Gibbs ordered. "McGee, Palmer, lights."

Gibbs paused trying to figure out what to do with the deputy until they needed to move the body, when the man spoke, "Agent Gibbs. Here."

He handed Gibbs the best thing Jethro had laid eyes on all morning. A green Stanley thermos filled with coffee. Deputy Richardson moved quickly aside and helped set up the portable lights. Gibbs poured coffee into the small go-cup and drank the dark liquid gratefully. Surprisingly, it was damn good coffee. Coffee in hand and temper checked, Gibbs waited for Ducky to conclude his preliminary evaluation.

Ducky approached Cameran Wilken's body slowly saying, "What have they done to you my dear?"

Dr Mallard knelt beside the naked body and inserted the liver temperature probe. Taking a reading from it the M.E. turned to Gibbs, "Jethro according to liver temp she has been dead more than forty-eight hours."

Ducky's eyes were incredibly sad and his voice heavy when he spoke next, "Preliminary cause of death… as you might have guessed, Jethro. Someone carved her heart from her chest."

* * *

><p>*** Six Hours Later***<p>

As the body of Petty Officer Cameran Wilken was loaded into the back of NCIS Medical Examiner's truck, Agent Gibbs shook hands with Sgt Beck. The NCIS team was busily stowing their gear back in the car, while Deputy Richardson drew Dr Mallard a simple map to get them safely back to the main highway.

"Sgt, we'll be in touch." stated Gibbs.

"If there's any way we can help, you call me or the kid," said Sgt Beck, handing Gibbs a card with two phone numbers, "We'll get it done for you."

"Thank you Sgt, you've been easy to work with." Gibbs replied.

Sgt Beck laughed, "Can't say as anyone ever said that about me before."

Gibbs grinned at Beck's observation, "We'd best get back to the Navy yard."

"Yep. Storms movin' in. We should get back too, while the road is still passable."

Beck shot a look at the horizon, where the clouds in question loomed ominously. Starting toward his SUV, he called, "Come on kid. We got reports to file."

"10-4 Sarge." Creed responded. "Agents DiNozzo, McGee, safe trip back. Ziva, I look forward to seeing you soon."

"I am looking forward to that as well Creed." said Ziva, smiling warmly at his tanned face.

"Get in the car you three; we've got a long drive." Gibbs shouted at them, approaching rapidly.

Straight away the three agents began to argue about whose turn it was to drive. Deputy Richardson stood watching them, an amused smile on his face. Gibbs paused to shake hands with the young man, impressed with the casual strength of Creed's grip.

Gibbs looked straight at the young deputy saying, "Call her."

"I will." Creed stated, not surprised in the least that the Senior Agent knew. From the first Agent Gibbs struck Creed as a man wholly aware of things, especially those that impacted his team.

Gibbs nodded briskly at Deputy Richardson's honest answer. Striding rapidly past where Ziva was threatening to remove Tony's gallbladder with a pair of fingernail clippers, McGee citing the deer incident and Tony yelling at them both, Gibb simply reached inside the drivers' door and cranked the engine.

Gibbs whistled, "Anyone not in the car by the time I am gets left behind."

Three agents scrambled to get seated while Gibbs grinned wickedly; causing Deputy Richardson's deep booming laughter to roll across the clearing. Slamming his door closed Gibbs started the long journey back to NCIS headquarters.


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

Only four of the twelve were in attendance tonight. The presence of the others had been deemed unnecessary. Only the elders and the one known as the procurer were privy to this meeting.

It was held, as all others had been, at a location known only to them. The building was dark; silent, except for their muffled voices.

"We should conduct the ritual at the new moon." stated at thin man with a reedy voice.

"I agree. Now that the body has been discovered ahead of schedule, we should go forward before anyone suspects." intoned the ancient man, his voice raspy. "Her blood will produce enough serum for the four of us."

The procurer spoke, "The serum will simply delay the inevitable. Furthermore, who among us can predict how much time will pass before all the elements align again? None of us would be alive to see it that much is assured. It has taken centuries to arrive at this juncture. We do not have centuries more to wait."

"Better to take the risk than to have someone discover…" said the thin man.

"NO." The lone woman cut off his speech, her tone forbidding any further argument.

"It must be this time, in this place, or not at all." She pinned each of them with her unyielding glare until they each nodded acquiescence.

"We will proceed as planned. The ritual will take place under the lunar eclipse," she paced the room, fearsome in her wrath, as she continued, "That gives us five days to secure the sacrifice."

She halted in front of the procurer. Her gaze and her voice radiating her power. "No mistakes. Anyone who fails their appointed task must forfeit their share."

He bowed to her. Then kissing her cheek reverently, whispered, "I swear to you, Mother, it will be as you say."

He exited swiftly, as silent a shadow. She smiled at his vanished figure, a chilling thing to behold. When she turned the force of her colorless stare upon the remaining men, they flinched.

Confident that they understood it was too late to stop now, she dismissed them saying, "We will met again in three nights. I expect great progress in that time."

The men murmured reassurances and hurriedly escaped, leaving her standing alone in the dark.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

***N.C.I.S. Headquarters (Abby's Lab) the next morning***

Abigail Scuito, call her Abby please, NCIS top Forensic Scientist bopped her way cheerfully into her lab. Eager to begin processing the evidence collected by Gibb's Team and Dr Mallard, she had arrived earlier than usual. Getting to work before everyone else had its advantages. Abby enjoyed being able to get her 'babies', particularly Major Mass Spec, awake and running properly before Gibbs started yelling for results.

Not that Gibbs yelled at her, nor did Gibbs allow anyone else to do so. Because, of course, the real rule 1 is- Nobody messes with Abby. Even Director Vance, head of NCIS, knew better than to risk the Wrath of Gibbs for upsetting Abby. Still, Abby wanted to be ahead of the game.

With her 'babies' fully warmed up and humming, Abby blasted a fast techno-metal song through her stereo. She took a second to straighten her 'Death to Barbie' t-shirt and then dove head first into the evidence. Abby was immediately absorbed in the minutiae of her work. Dancing and swaying around her lab, she catalogued, processed, digitized and analyzed to her heart's content.

This was the sight that greeted the usually imperturbable Leroy Jethro Gibbs when he turned into the doorway of Abby's lab to deliver her morning Caf-Pow. Despite his intentions to drop off the Caf-Pow then quickly return to the bullpen, Gibbs found himself watching Abby; he was mesmerized by the shake and sway of her hips, the bounce and slide of her steps (and just how'n hell did she not fall in those 4" platform boots?). Not wanting to disturb her, Gibbs stood motionless in the doorway. He did this sometimes, not meaning to, but unable to stop himself; he needed to be in her presence and let her radiant energy, her (since Abby was from Louisiana) joie de vive, chase away the shadows in his soul.

The beeping from her computer jostled Gibbs from his trance. Trying to keep his mind focused, Gibbs strode quickly into her workspace and placed the Caf-Pow on the table. Leaning in behind her, he tweaked one of her raven braids.

"Morning A-".

"GIBBS!" Abby shrieked, jumping sideways. "You can't keep doing that! One of these days I'm going to have a heart attack or drop some corrosive chemical or…"

Gibbs stopped what was sure to be a full blown tirade by shaking the Caf-Pow in Abby's direction. He couldn't help but smile as Abby pounced on the super caffeinated beverage, the way a cat would pounce on a mouse.

Abby twirled, happily slurping down the drink. When she'd finished those first glorious sips, her dark cherry painted lips smiled, "Okay, you're forgiven. I never can stay mad at you Gibbs. Even though there are probably times I should. Like the time you…"

"Good Morning, Abby." Gibbs laughed.

When her computer sounded again Gibbs asked, "Got something already Abs?"

Abby lowered the volume of her music and swung toward her beloved computer.

"I do. DNA samples that Ducky took confirm your victim is Petty Officer Cameran Lynette Wilken, 26 y.o.a. at time of death, 5'8" tall and the last time her I.D. photo was taken 137 lbs."

Abby's fingers hovered over the keyboard. "But, you knew that already."

"Always good to have confirmation Abs."

"I'm still waiting on Ducky to send me blood and tissue samples. As well as any trace from her body," Abby continued, "He's running behind."

"It was too late, once we got back, to start Abby."

"I know Gibbs. So, in the meantime, I'm scanning photos of the scene. Trying to get some kind of measurement on what was used to make that…wound in her chest. I've processed what evidence ya'll collected. Not very much of it."

Gibbs coughed sharply, "You got what there was to find."

"I know that too Gibbs. You would just think that in all that square footage there would have been something, I don't know. More." Abby tilted her head to the side.

"By the way what's with the coffee thermos? That seems like a weird thing to find at a murder scene. Kinda creepy, imagining the murderer sitting down there drinking coffee before, well before. Plus, I'm confused as to why it wasn't tagged or photographed or anything; at the very least it should have…"

"Breathe, Abby." Gibbs instructed. Smiling, he picked up the offending item to take with him. "I'll have Ziva contact the Deputy it belongs to."

"Deputy?" Asked Abby. Then in a leap of logic that left Gibbs dizzy, "Oh. That's who C.R. is! Which was about to be my next question. What does C.R stand for? If he's going to sign the evidence log then I really need his name. Otherwise when this goes to court the lawyers will…"

"I'll have Ziva take care of it and get you his name." Gibbs was having difficulty suppressing his laughter; intending to distract Abby he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.

"Ok…Wait, why Ziva?" A split second turn of Abby's head made Gibbs miss his mark. His kiss landed fully on Abby's lips instead.

Silence…

And in the silence the world seemed to stop spinning on its axis. Time compressed and expanded simultaneously. There might have even been fireworks with music in the background. Abby wasn't sure. All she knew was her body felt like it had been electrified and ignited on fire concurrently.

'OH MY GOD! GIBBS IS KISSING ME!' Abby's brain shouted with joy and cried out for more.

Unfortunately, in Abby's opinion, an eye blink later Gibbs pulled back. Although, Abby could've sworn, from the look in his eyes that Gibbs didn't want to end this. Abby's thoughts raced. 'Oh please, please, don't be angry! Oh God, please don't let him say this was a mistake! Maybe it was an accident. But there's nothing accidental about how that felt.'

Gibb's glacier blue eyes transfixed her; unable to move, Abby held her breath, unwilling to break whatever spell was holding them. Abby watched as Gibb's lips parted, whether to be pressed against hers again or to speak she'd never be certain, for at that instant his cell phone rang. Retrieving the phone, he flipped it open viciously.

Growling into the mouthpiece, "Gibbs. Speak".

Eyes still locked with Abby, Gibbs listened to the caller half-heartedly. Then in a split second his eyes cleared, their focus changing.

"I'll be right there."

Closing the cell phone, Gibbs moved closer to Abby. So close she could actually see the individual hairs of his eyelashes, but somehow not quite touching.

Laying his hand on her cheek he signed 'my girl' while whispering, "Tonite, Abby."

In a flash he was out the lab doors, his footsteps pounding up the stairs. Abby exhaled, the air leaving her lungs in a great whoosh! Unable to hear anything for her pulse hammering in her ears, she missed three rings of her webcam. Inhaling deeply she clicked on the screen.

"Abby's magic Lab!" she chirped happily.

Smiling at her favorite Medical Examiners' face, she exclaimed, "Ducky! What can I do for you this wonderful morning?"

"Good morning, Abigail." replied the much older Scottish doctor. "I know you are terribly busy this morning, but have you seen Jethro? I really must speak with him immediately."

"He just hot-footed it upstairs to the bull-pen, Ducky."

Ducky's brow furrowed anxiously. Concerned for her friend, Abby asked, "Is everything okay, Ducky?"

"No Abby. I'm afraid it isn't. My preliminary COD on our victim was incorrect. I must sign off Abby and track down Jethro." Ducky moved to click off the webcam.

Abby yelled, "Wait, Ducky! Before you go, I know you're in a big rush, but I could really use those blood and tissue samples from Petty Officer Wilken's body."

Ducky sighed, running a shaking hand across his brow. "Abby, if I can find some blood to send you then Mr. Palmer will bring it and the other samples to you directly."

With that statement the M.E. clicked off before hearing Abby's stunned, "Whoa, Majorly Hinky!"

* * *

><p><strong>I really thought Abby and Gibbs deserved an encounter free from the rest of the team to set up what will happen in later chapters. Want to find out what then keep reading as chapters post. Thanks for the read and reviews. keep them coming.<strong>


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Chaos greeted Gibbs when he reached the bullpen, each of his agents were trying to speak at once. The resulting din was worse than some of Abby's musical selections. Jethro placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly, stopping them in mid-sentence.

"MCGEE! You first!" Gibbs barked in his Marine Gunnery Sgt voice.

"Yes, Boss. I called and had a lengthy conversation with Petty Officer Wilken's CO, a LT Commander Mettauer. She was officially assigned to what the military terms an outsourcing think tank; unofficially, she was a researcher in the dark department of Psy-Ops. He was willing to confirm that the petty officer worked for him and that the last time he saw her alive was Friday at around 1730 hrs."

McGee paused, seemingly waiting for Gibbs to say something. When Gibbs only stared at him expectantly, McGee forged ahead.

"Lt Commander Mettauer has flatly refused to answer any further questions about Petty Officer Wilken or any projects she may have worked on. Keeps citing security clearance and need to know crap. Uuh, Boss."

"You informed the Lt Commander that her murder could be damned well related to that work?" Gibbs growled, this was turning into a growling kind of day.

"Absolutely Boss. To which he responded that the sun could fall from the sky and hell could freeze over before he'd _let_ us see the project files." McGee stated, his frustration obvious. "Meanwhile I'm running her financials, work emails and phone logs. Nothing unusual so far."

When McGee finished DiNozzo opened his mouth, then snapped it shut when Ziva glared at him while playing with a paperclip. Some contrariness of nature had Gibbs ignoring Tony.

"Ziva." Gibbs ordered, watching Tony's facial expressions relay impatience and excitement.

Ziva began immediately to convey everything she'd thus far discovered.

"I have spoken with co-workers, friends, neighbors and her landlady. By all accounts she left for work Friday morning around 0715, as was her custom, and arrived on the Navy Yard at 0750. Security has her checking thru at that time and she was at her desk by 0800. After that she had lunch with a couple girlfriends at 1200 and left work by 1725. Her landlady stated she spoke with Petty Officer Wilken at approx 1745hrs for about 20 minutes. When the landlady left for her ballroom dancing class at 1912, the Petty Officer's car was pulling out of the lot. She was uncertain who was driving."

Ziva paused to consult her notes, "The car is a blue Peugeot, two doors. Maryland plates v13z5r9."

"Ziva, the car." Gibbs intoned.

"Issuing a BOLO and checking in with local authorities," Ziva answered, turning toward her desk.

By this point DiNozzo was practically tap dancing with impatience.

Gibbs paused, taking a sip of coffee before saying, "Well? What're you waiting for DiNozzo?"

"Right Boss!"

Tony wasted no time launching into his findings.

"Petty Officer Cameran L. Wilken, formerly Cameran L Hayden. She was married, briefly to a Morris Wilken at age 19. They divorced right before her 20th birthday, when she joined the Navy. Mother and one sister deceased before she was 12. Father, a Marine Gunnery Sgt, Richard J Hayden was killed in combat 2 years later. She was raised by a great-great aunt, Sinead Connelly."

"The ex-husband?" Gibbs inquired as Tony took a breath.

"Working over-sea, for a software company in Japan. Checked his passport, no returns stateside in the last 8 months."

Tony grabbed the remote for the digital screen and clicked up two photos. One was a photo of Cameran Wilken, sporting strawberry blonde hair and dressed in her Navy whites. The other a striking red headed female in Marine camo. Coloring aside, there was a strong resemblance between the two women.

Tony started again saying, "However, I did find her older sister. Master Sgt Titania Elaine Hayden, USMC, stationed right here in Rivercity. I spoke with Division HQ this morning; her company is out on field exercises, they'll be back at base tomorrow 0600."

Gibbs nodded his approval.

"DiNozzo, you and Ziva go check the PO's apartment. McGee keep at the phone logs and financials. Check the bolos and see if the Petty Officer had any civilian visitors at work."

"On It, Boss." Responded his agents. Tony and Ziva raced to the elevator while McGee buried himself in e-data. Gibbs rounded the end of the stairs, intent on cornering Vance. He needed to see what kind of projects the Petty Officer was involved in.

"Jethro, wait!" Ducky shouted, puffing slightly as he made his way into the bullpen.

"What is it Duck?" asked Gibbs, his impatience curbed by the anxiety on Ducky's face.

"Jethro, I need to speak with you about Petty Officer Wilken's autopsy."

"Speak."

Dr Mallard shook his head, "Privately Jethro."

* * *

><p>*<strong>Gibbs' Private Office (aka the elevator)*<strong>

Punching the emergency stop button, Gibbs demanded, "What's so important that it's keeping me from brow-beating Vance into getting access to Psy-Ops files?"

"I must apologize Jethro." Ducky began. "Not for the interruption, it is necessary. But because Petty Officer Wilken's C.O.D was not what I had originally told you. Or, not exactly."

"Explain."

"When Mr. Palmer and I began the autopsy this morning I noticed an abnormality. There was no lividity present in the body."

"So?" Gibbs growled. (definately a growling kind of day.)

"No lividity whatsoever Jethro."

"Tony was right." said Gibbs, while rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'm afraid the poor girl's blood was deliberately drained. There were needle marks, one on her carotid artery and one on her femoral artery."

Ducky sighed. "Having reached this conclusion, I can say that having her heart removed was secondary trauma. Petty Officer Wilken expired from extreme blood loss."

Ducky shook his head before continuing, "What I am at a loss to explain is the absence of perimortem bruising or abrasions on her arms and legs. She had been restrained. We found flakes of oxidized iron ferrite on her wrists and ankles. Which means…"

"Either she was unconscious or she couldn't fight back." Jethro finished.

Ducky was confounded, something that didn't often happen. Frustrated he finished by saying, "We will proceed with the rest of the examination. Perhaps further tests will reveal more of how she died."

"Alright Duck." Gibbs moved to deactivate the emergency stop.

"Jethro, you stated earlier that our young victim was assigned to Psy-Ops?" Dr Mallard queried.

Gibbs nodded.

"Many of the projects there are black listed. Do you believe that may be the reason she was killed?" Ducky asked anxiously.

Gibbs' features bordered on outrage as he punched the stop button, re-starting the elevator.

"I don't know Ducky. But I'm going to find out."

"Right Now!"

The words hung in the air as Gibbs stormed out of the elevator and up the stairs.

* * *

><p><strong>** With Tony and Ziva**<strong>

DiNozzo stopped the car in front of a well kept four-story row house.

"Nice place." observed Tony as they exited the vehicle.

"The landlady, Mrs. Lensky, is meeting us on the third floor." Ziva told him, "She was very agreeable to opening the apartment. Apparently she was quite fond of Petty Officer Wilken."

Entering the building, Ziva and Tony climbed the stairs to the third floor. was indeed waiting for them at the south facing apartment. After a brief conversation with Ziva, the sixty-something woman opened the apartment door. She expressed her dismay about Cameran's murder; then instructing the agents to lock up when they finished, left them to conduct the search.

Ziva walked through the apartment cautiously, "No obvious signs of struggle. Nothing appears to be out of place."

Tony made a noncommittal noise. Looking in each doorway to get an idea of the layout, Tony decided on a plan of action.

"Ziva you search the kitchen and living room. I'll take the office and bedroom."

"Oh no, Tony. The last place we searched you took the bedroom and office and left the kitchen to me. I was searching through garbage for hours. This time it's your turn."

"Fine." Tony said through his teeth, "You take the bedroom and office and I'll take the kitchen and living room. Happy?"

"Very!" Ziva replied with a smirk.

Giving Tony a curt nod, Ziva moved to the bedroom to begin her search. Tony stayed in the living room, methodically going through drawers and looking under furniture.

Two hours of searching yielded little in the way of physical evidence. However, both agents now had a much clearer idea of who the deceased had been in life.

By all the had found Cameran Wilken had been adventurous with strong familial ties. Photos of her trying extreme sports decorated her apartment. Many of those photos had been taken with her sister (who for some reason always had on sunglasses). Several were pictures of her, them, with the great-great aunt; a couple pictures featuring three young girls and one of her long deceased parents.

Cameran also showed a more than casual interest in history, genealogy and advanced cognitive theory; according to the number of books lining her shelves these were subjects on which she spent a great deal of time researching.

Concluding their search, Tony and Ziva loaded several electronic and paper items to take back as evidence. In their haste or perhaps ignorance, they overlooked several ancient leather bound tomes. These lay next to an intricately carved wooden box. The extraordinary craftsmanship would later catch the eye of one Special Agent Gibbs. The conclusions drawn from its contents and the carvings would set in motion events that would alter the dynamics of his "family" for years to come.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

*In Autopsy-right after Gibbs and Ducky's Conversation while Tony and Ziva searched the apartment*

"Mr. Palmer have you managed to locate enough blood for the tests Abby needs to run?" Dr. Mallard asked from behind his protective face shield as he pored one last time over the gaping hole in Petty Officer Wilken's chest.

Removing a rather long needle from the body, Palmer nodded affirmatively. "I was able to pull small amounts from the kidneys and liver. Hopefully it should be sufficient."

Jimmy Palmer reluctantly held up three small half empty vials, sighing in frustration he collected the other samples to take to the forensics lab.

Before exiting Palmer said, "Oh, Dr. Mallard, those enhanced images of the Petty Officer's brain scans are on your desk."

"Thank you Jimmy. I will look at them as soon as I close her up." Dr Mallard replied to Palmer's retreating back.

Dr Mallard shook his head slowly, with lingering sadness, as he spoke to the Petty Officer. "I will do my best, dear lady, to make things appear as neat as possible. However, I surmise the results will disappoint."

Ducky had nearly finished when Palmer returned. "Mr. Palmer since you're back, would you be so kind as to put those images up on the light bar?"

Efficiently and uncharacteristically silent, Palmer did as he was asked. As he stood staring at the brain scans Palmer noticed something unusual. Turning, he dug a magnifying glass from the desk drawer. Peering intently through the lens Palmer's forehead wrinkled with puzzlement.

"Dr. Mallard?"

"Yes, Jimmy?"

"Do you recall reading anything in Petty Officer Wilken's medical history about epilepsy?"

The query stopped Ducky, who then considered his answer carefully, "No, Petty Officer Wilken had no history of epileptic seizures. That sort of thing would have precluded her entering the military."

"Then what's this scarring here at the prefrontal lobe of the cortex?" Palmer asked, holding the magnifying glass out for Dr. Mallard.

Ducky walked over to the images and squinted to see, even with the additional magnification, what Palmer had indicated.

"How very unusual." Ducky said thoughtfully. "I can't clearly make out what this is Mr. Palmer. Have we any larger images of this area?"

Shaking his head Jimmy answered, "No Doctor, this is the largest image available."

"Hmm. I should like a clearer look at this discovery."

Excitedly Palmer spoke up, " Doctor, I can call the imaging tech and have him send Abby and email with the digitized scans. Maybe she can get a better view with the 3-d imager."

Ducky nodded, "An excellent suggestion Mr. Palmer. Take care of it and let me know your conclusions."

"Really?" Squeaked Jimmy.

"Yes. You found this anomaly, follow through with the search. As Tony would say "This is your baby." " Dr Mallard replied. "Now I must finish closing and get started on the Major's body for Brown's team."

"As you say Doctor."

Jimmy ran to the elevator to try and catch Abby before she got swamped with other requests.

Agent Tim McGee typed rapidly on his keyboard, searching for anything that would help him redeem himself. Thus far all Petty Officer Wilken's accounts and work phone logs were distressingly normal. She paid her bills, mostly on time, and lived for the most part within her means. She called her sister and great-great aunt at least once a week; her friends and work showed up more often.

McGee was about to bang his head on his desk for inspiration, when an outgoing email ip from Petty Officer Wilken's work email caught his attention. There was no way that ip address was gov't or military issued, it had the completely work set of precursors.

Rejuvenated by his find, however small it might turn out to be, McGee narrowed his focus to tracking down the email destination. And, by extension, the addressee.

Nearly an hour had passed since he'd started tracking the I.P. He was so close and every five seconds the phone rang or an email about the BOLO came in. Finally a lull in the number of emails, faxes and phone calls had McGee grinning in anticipation. Just as McGee began the final trace on the address, he was stopped by his boss's bellow.

"McGee! Grab your gear meet me at the car in ten!"

McGee didn't hesitate; he snatched his bag, grabbed his badge and gun, running headlong down the stairs to the parking lot. McGee was in such a rush that he committed a cardinal e-geek sin. Thou shalt always save and back-up thy work.

McGee made it to the car with minutes to spare, about thirty seconds before Gibbs strode to the driver's door.

"Where're we going Boss?"

Gibb's didn't answer, he simply opened the door and got in the car. Not wanting to be left behind, Tim slid into the passenger's seat. Having seen the tightly leashed anger on his boss' face, Tim decided discretion was the better part of valor and remained silent.

Twenty -five minutes later they pulled up to a manned security gate in front of a nondescript grey and tan building. A young Marine Cpl approached asking the nature of their business and to see their credentials; meanwhile two other Marines inspected the car.

"NCIS Special Agent Gibbs and Agent McGee to see Lt Commander Mettauer." Gibbs informed the guard.

After passing through the security checkpoint, the agents were directed to park their vehicle and enter the building through the southern most set of doors. Gibbs parked the car and was striding up the sidewalk before McGee could unbuckle his seatbelt. Jogging to catch up with the boss, McGee couldn't shake the ominous feeling that something…hinky… was going to happen.

Gibbs bulled his way past the people waiting at the lobby desk. Flashing his badge he was around the corner with Tim hot on his heels before the desk personnel could even speak. The ride to the 8th floor took only seconds; Tim would later think that one of the gate guards must have called ahead, because they were met by the Lt Commander's aide. A gaunt, snobbish young Lt, named Bowers.

"Agent Gibbs," the Lt began, " I regret to say that Lt Commander Mettauer is in a meeting with the Admiral. He will be unable to speak with you today."

McGee wondered how the man kept from going cross-eyed, he was looking so far down his nose at the NCIS agents.

"Get him out of the meeting." Gibbs ordered in his _I will tolerate no bullshit_tone.

"Agent Gibbs the Admiral is…", Bowers started.

Gibbs produced a piece of paper from his jacket. Holding it less than an inch from Bowers' nose Gibbs used his _Don't fuck with me or I'll break you in half and leave you for dead_ voice.

"Orders from Sec Nav trump the Admiral. **Get Mettauer here now.**"

Using his sub-zero glare, Gibbs actually made the man stammer and retreat several steps. Watching the Lt go pale, McGee suppressed his laughter. It never got old watching Gibbs intimidate people. Additionally, this was certain to win McGee the weekly Gibbs Death Stare Story pool. Tony was going to be hard pressed to top this episode, McGee thought.

*_Back in NCIS Autopsy*_

The computer on Ducky's desk dinged, signaling an incoming email. Jimmy Palmer stripped off his remaining glove and tapped the mouse button.

Eyes lighting with eagerness, Palmer called out, "Doctor Mallard, Abby just sent those images we requested."

Dr. Mallard continued with the autopsy of a Marine major, asking, "Can you print those images Mr. Palmer?"

Moving the mouse around Palmer clicked on several things before nodding, "Yes Dr. It may take a while. There are over a hundred enhanced images. Should I print them all?"

Ducky paused after placing a kidney on the scale, "No. Let us concentrate on the area in the prefrontal cortex where you noticed the abnormality."

"Certainly Dr. Mallard."

Palmer clicked the mouse twice more, smiling when the printer began to hum.

Arriving back at NCIS loaded down with items collected from Cameran Wilken's apartment, Tony and Ziva proceeded to Abby's Lab. When they exited the elevator Tony and Ziva reeled back from the assault on their ears. Music, or so Abby called it, pounded out of the lab so loudly Ziva was surprised the walls weren't shaking. DiNozzo shouted at the top of his lungs, trying to attract Abby's attention.

No Luck.

DiNozzo tried twice more, then he and Ziva yelled together. No Dice. Finally Tony balled up a piece of paper and pegged their lab rat in the back of her head.

Abby turned, ready to give someone a piece of her mind, when she saw Ziva covering her ears and Tony miming pushing remote control buttons at the stereo. Snatching the remote Abby silenced the speakers. The drastic change in air pressure caused their breath to leave their lungs.

"What was That?" Tony yelled, shaking his head and jiggling his fingers in his ears trying to clear them.

"It's a new group called Cosmic Raiders. Pretty awesome aren't they!" smiled Abby delightedly.

"Why would anyone name a band Comic Raisins?" demanded Ziva, as she worked her jaw in an attempt to pop her ears and relieve the residual pounding.

"Huh?" Tony asked, feigning (sort of) deafness.

"Comic Raisins." Ziva nearly yelled.

"What about Ray bans?" yelled DiNozzo.

"Never mind." Abby told the pair of agents. "What wonderful toys did you bring for my amusement?"

"We have a home computer, cell phone, I-Pad and electronic reader. Along with some paper files and photos" Tony ran thru the list laying the items on the table as he spoke.

Abby signed the items into evidence and was about to let them leave when her brain fire a warning shot.

"Hey Ziva. Did Gibbs forget to ask you to let me know about the initials and the thermos for the murder scene?" Abby inquired. "I figured it slipped his mind because you hadn't called to tell me. And I hated to interrupt you while you were searching, but I really have to know who the initials C.R belong to."

Tony grinned so widely it was a wonder his face didn't break and responded, "That's Ziva's beau."

"His name was not beau, Tony. If it were then how would his initials be C.R?" Ziva demanded.

"Not Bo as in a name, beau as in a gentleman caller." Tony explained. "You know, a boyfriend, Zee-vah."

"Wait, boyfriend! What did I miss on that trip?" Abby wanted to know. She was so excited that she had begun to bounce on her toes.

"He is not my boyfriend, Tony." stated Ziva with a glare. "But, yes I would say that perhaps you could classify him as a gentleman caller."

"Name and details Ziva! I live for details!" Abby chattered.

"There are no details. His name is Creed Richardson and he is a Deputy Sheriff for Rapidan County. As for the thermos, it must have been placed in one of the boxes by mistake." Ziva said matter'o'factly.

"I will see that he gets it back."

"How?" Abby wanted to know.

"Yeah, how?" chimed Tony.

With an exasperated twitch of her shoulders Ziva replied, " Because two weekends from now he invited me to attend the local county fair with him. I shall simply return the thermos then."

"A county fair?" said Tony incredulously.

"Yes Tony. Music, dancing, picnic with homemade pies, carnival rides. I think it sounds fun." said Ziva defensively.

"Mmm, yeah." Abby sighed. "Cotton candy, roasted ears of corn, funnels cakes, haunted houses, Ferris wheels, fireworks and dancing till you fall over. Brings back good memories."

"Since you put it that way, it does sound like a lot of fun." Tony said woefully.

"I thought it was a nice change from the usual dinner and movie offers I receive." Ziva said smiling.

Rushing over to Ziva, Abby hugged her neck before the other woman could resist. "It sounds like a great first date Ziva. And I know you'll really enjoy it, just stay away from the animal auctions. Or you might wind up accidentally buying a goat."

"Thank you Abby. But why would I buy a goat?" Ziva wanted to know.

"Because the last time I went to a county fair I wound up buying a goat by accident." Abby responded.

"That is a story I want to hear in detail." Tony stated, as his cell phone buzzed. After checking the message Tony said, "But it'll have to wait. Gibbs wants us in the bullpen."

As Tony and Ziva exited the lab, Abby returned to the evidence. Rubbing her hands with glee, Abby talked to herself, " Now let's get started."

Exceedingly grateful for something to do besides wait on test results and let her mind wander through all too vivid daydreams about a certain silver haired special agent, Abby began cataloging the evidence. She had nearly finished when the power in her lab surged. Several things happened at once, her computers went blank, the lights went out and major mass spec had a major meltdown. Abby had a rare moment of panic, her mind racing with thoughts of how much damage her 'babies' had suffered and what it might take to fix them.

"Oh man! Gibbs is gonna be pissed." Abby groaned, thinking _so much for "Tonight, Abby" (Gibbs' voice)._

* * *

><p><strong><em>Sorry this chapter is so choppy, but there is a method to the madness. ANd while nothing major happens this chapter it is important for the buildup to the next chapters. Ps. Thanks to all those who read and reviewed. Am grateful that someone likes this story, as its been bugging me for awhile. Hopefully it will turn out as well as it sounds in my head. <em>**


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